


Gold

by apparitionism



Series: Magi [1]
Category: Warehouse 13
Genre: Bering & Wells Holiday Gift Exchange, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-20
Updated: 2018-10-20
Packaged: 2019-08-04 23:52:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16356674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/apparitionism/pseuds/apparitionism
Summary: Apparently, I post pieces from Christmases past in October, so... step into Christmas, won’t you? I’ve come bearing three gifts, all of which were written for the Bering & Wells Holiday Gift Exchange of 2016. This first piece takes place in an ideal Warehouse world, which is to say, the first episode of season 4 happened, and then none of the bad stuff ensued. Doesn’t that give you warm holiday feelings already?





	Gold

**Author's Note:**

> I bet, based on the title of this first present as well as the series, you’ll be able to guess the names of the other two. I’ll post them here as I get them edited over the next few weeks. The second one in particular needs, and is receiving, heavy attention, so it will be at least a bit better than it was in 2016.

Pete rarely had expectations. About much of anything, but _really_ not about what he might see on any given day in the Warehouse. And because he rarely had expectations, he was rarely surprised.

But then, on Christmas Eve, he walked into the Christmas aisle.

And he _was_ surprised.

In front of him was something kinda like a Nativity scene. That wasn’t the surprising part, because yeah, it was the Christmas aisle.

No, the surprising part was… well, it was actually two surprising parts: one, that the scene was life-size, and two, that parts of it were actually alive. Which made _three_ surprising parts, really, because the parts of it that were alive were being played by Myka and H.G. Although “played” was probably the wrong word. Nobody was doing much moving—they were paused in the scene—but their mouths didn’t seem to be stuck, because they were having a pretty serious argument, something along the lines of “this is your fault” and “no, it’s _your_ fault.”

H.G. noticed Pete was there before Myka did. “ _Do not_ come any closer,” she said, “unless you too wish to become a wise man.”

“Hey!” he protested. “I’m wise right now.”

“He could become Joseph,” Myka said.

Myka was clearly Mary—she was kneeling beside a manger—and she clearly meant her words as a dig at H.G., who _wasn’t_ Joseph. Not-Joseph said, “He should be happy I didn’t say he could be an ass.”

“Hey!” Pete protested again.

“There are a limited number of roles available,” H.G. said, “my fellow kings aside.”

“Which one of them are you?” Pete asked.

“I do not _care_. But I do seem to be holding gold, so I believe that makes me—”

“Let’s see, there’s Dopey and Sneezy and who else? Oh, I got it, you’re Grumpy.”

“She’s definitely Grumpy,” Myka said.

“King Grumpy!” Pete snickered. “It totally fits.”

H.G. said, “ _You_ will be King Sufferer of My Revenge when we get out of this. And Myka can be your queen.”

Myka sighed. “Speaking of getting out of this. Pete, a little help?”

“Well, what’d you touch or use or whatever?”

H.G. cleared her throat. Really loudly. Myka said, “We… don’t exactly know.”

“How don’t you know?”

Crickets.

Pete said, “So now you can’t move _or_ talk?”

“We can talk,” H.G. said. “She just doesn’t want to.”

“I’m thinking you don’t want Pete to hear what I’d say.”

“I am not the one who would be embarrassed in this scenario. I am not the one who managed to activate an artifact in the Christmas aisle. That is generally a Pete move, and yet you magically managed to usurp his—”

“It was not a Pete move! Quit saying that!”

“It _was_ a Pete move,” H.G. said.

“Hey!” Pete objected.

“Speaking of Pete moves,” he heard Claudia’s voice say, from behind him.

He turned around. “When did you get here?” She and Steve were both standing there, like they were curious about the situation but not really concerned.

Steve said, “You didn’t come right back like you said you would, so naturally we got a little worried about you… what with it being Christmas.”

“Prime time for those Pete moves,” Claudia agreed.

“Hey now,” Pete said.

“Those Pete moves,” H.G. said, and Pete could tell that if she could move, she’d be nodding her head. “One of which Myka has just committed.”

“It was not a Pete move!” Myka yelped again. “I told you to quit it!”

“So what did she activate with this Pete move?” Steve asked.

“I think it’s this big gold shrine-y thing over here,” Claudia said. “Nativity scene right on the side.” She read its description. “Effect apparently due to centuries of people coming to whichever cathedral it was being kept in to look at it with a bunch of religious belief or whatever.” She squinted. “Huh. Plus it’s got the Three Kings’ bones in it.”

“That’s creepy,” Pete said. He moved a step further away from the box and the scene it caused.

Claudia went on, “H.G., you’ll get a giggle out of this.”

“Will I,” H.G. said.

“Do you know who went and dug up the wise men’s bones in the fourth century and took ’em to Constantinople and put ’em in this big gold box for her kid, who happened to be the Emperor Constantine?”

Pete, Steve, Myka, and H.G. all said, “No.”

Claudia herself giggled. “ _Saint_ Helena.”

Myka said, really really deadpan, “Obviously no relation.”

“If my limbs were not currently _immobile_ ,” H.G. said, “I would strangle you.”

“Thus proving my point.”

Pete thought he _might_ have seen something more ridiculous than H.G.’s expression at not being able to strangle Myka right then, but he couldn’t remember it. Not right then. To Claudia, he said, “So what you’re saying is, this is a really big gold box and the wise men’s bones are in it, and somebody named Helena did it?” He thought for a second. “So maybe this isn’t about Myka’s non-Pete move after all?”

H.G. shouted, “It _is_ about Myka’s Pete move!”

“Excuse me,” Myka said, “but _who_ was being distracting?”

“You generally manage to ignore me.”

“Don’t worry; I will from now on. But it’s Christmas!”

“Eve,” H.G. corrected her.

“Anyway, I was feeling… festive.” Pete didn’t think statues could blush, but Myka seemed like she was about to manage it.

Claudia said, “I don’t think we want to know what form that took.”

H.G. said, “I thought I did want to know. Oh, how wrong I was.”

“See if I ever get festive with you again,” Myka mumbled.

“Is that meant to be a threat? If your version of ‘getting festive’ will from now on bear such a striking resemblance to Pete’s, then that is fine with me. You may remain in your present virginal state, as far as I’m concerned.”

“Why did it decide I should be Mary in this little tableau, anyhow? I don’t even want kids.”

H.G. said, “This may come as a surprise to you, but I am not a Persian, or possibly Asian, man named Caspar. And yet.”

Claudia said, “I bet it’s because it’s the Adoration of the Magi. I mean, you do adore Myka.”

“I believe the Magi adored the Christ child. And I assure you, I am not at present adoring Myka.”

“In the little play, she’s his mom. You and your wise guy buddies must’ve liked her just as much.”

Steve remarked, to nobody in particular, “Christianity is so weird. I’m really glad I’m a Buddhist.”

“Perhaps my ‘wise guy buddies’ _are_ adoring her. But as mentioned, I at present am not,” Helena said.

“That doesn’t seem really fair,” Claudia said. “ _She’s_ not the one who went to the Holy Land and dug those Magi bones out of the ground.”

“ _Neither am I_.” H.G. sounded, right then, like she’d be happy to put some bones _into_ the ground.

Claudia said, “Look, just because the artifact read your name tag—”

“I am not wearing a name tag!”

“Your… metaphysical name tag,” Claudia tried. “Whatever.”

“That is not what happened!” H.G. snapped.

Pete asked, “Jeez, then what did happen?”

“I believe that _someone_ was not paying attention to where she was… leaning.”

“Leaning,” Pete said.

“Yes, leaning, okay?” Myka said.

“Is that what the kids are calling it now.”

“The kids are not calling anything anything!” Myka yelled at him. Or, basically, down at baby Jesus, who probably didn’t need the information.

Steve said, again to nobody in particular, “And yet, even given the Buddhism, I used to like Christmas. I really did. So peaceful.”

“The Warehouse’ll beat that right out of you, for sure,” Claudia said.

H.G. said, way too calmly, “While I’m _happy_ to contemplate the administration of beatings, could we perhaps focus for just a moment on remedying the situation?”

“Okay, okay,” Claudia told her. “But speaking of beatings, you better not do anything to Myka once we get you out of this. After all, nothing really bad happened.”

“I am a _statue_.”

Pete said, “Which some people might consider a good thing.”

“Is that a crack implying that I should be bronzed again?”

“Everybody please calm down,” Steve said.

Claudia nodded. “Seconded. C’mon, H.G., you’re not just a statue—you’re a _talking_ statue! Of a _king_! It’s kinda cool.”

Myka told Jesus, “It’s actually a little less than cool for me. I’m a statue too, and my knees are starting to hurt.”

“Again: whose fault?” H.G. asked.

Steve said, “I think you’re a little fixated on blame, H.G. Maybe you should let it go. Just breathe in and accept that it was a Pete move, then breathe out and let it go.”

Pete said, “Seriously, hey!”

“Steve,” H.G. said, “I’m immensely fond of you under normal circumstances, but I sincerely recommend that _you_ let go of any ideas you might have been entertaining about _peace_.”

And at that point, Leena appeared on the scene. How she always knew when it was time to show up and calm everybody down, Pete had no idea, but… “What is going on here?” she demanded.

“Myka’s a virgin; H.G.’s a saint,” he offered.

“I don’t think either of those things is true,” Leena said.

Claudia said, “Actually H.G.’s a wise man.”

“Closer, but still not quite believable. Honestly. Who activated the reliquary?”

“Myka,” H.G. said.

“Really?” Leena said. “Not Pete?”

“Hey!”

Claudia shrugged. “H.G. does keep calling it a Pete move. And Myka keeps getting really ticked off about it.”

“I think I’m _more_ ticked off about it,” Pete grumbled.

****

Much later that night, Pete was about to walk into the kitchen when he heard Myka say, “You are the most annoying person I ever met.”

For once, though, she wasn’t saying it to him, because he heard H.G. say, kind of flirty but also kind of… sad-hopeful, “And yet?”

“And yet,” Myka said, in that sappy voice that always managed to combine “why do I put up with you” with “oh yeah because you’re my lobster.” She went on, “I really am sorry.”

H.G. said, “As am I. I overreacted.”

“You don’t like being immobilized. I get that.”

“You certainly didn’t mean for that to happen. And I myself was certainly in favor of what you _did_ mean to have happen.”

There was a pause. Probably for kissing. Then Myka said, “You were right, anyway. It _was_ a Pete move.”

“Hey,” Pete said, but softly. Because he was pretty sure what was happening next was going to involve a lot more movement than that Christmas-aisle scene did… “Merry Christmas, you nuts,” he said, also softly. Then he tiptoed away.

Which was the real Pete move.

END (but Frankincense is just around the corner!)

**Author's Note:**

> original tumblr tags: this is basically an amuse bouche, then you get a longer AU, then a closing bite of (what I hope will be) sweetness


End file.
